


A (Temporary) Mistake

by pinkichor



Series: Sweaters and Tea Break [6]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Stop Stop It MV, idk what else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 01:28:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14009214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkichor/pseuds/pinkichor
Summary: He hopped onto the ledge, pacing the border and stretching his arms to keep his balance. He was about to start whistling, but when he turned around to step off the ledge, the heavy metal door creaked open. Jinyoung didn’t come close, and he only took one headphone out, but it’s not like Yugyeom had deserved more.





	A (Temporary) Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> what happens when you're trying to self care and adult things but it's also got7 cb week so you make yt streaming playlists and end up rewatching all their mvs multiple times for multiple days while not sleeping well, and then also going through compilation videos knowing yugyeom couldn't confess to save his life 
> 
> so tldr; my brain was like stop stop it mv but it's jingyeom have fun. so that's what this is. it's a mess. unbeta'd as always

Yugyeom rationally knew there were other ways--more  _ normal  _ ways--of confessing his crush on the senior class president, but anytime he tried to say the words, it was like he had forgotten how to speak. He often ended up stuttering and blushing, and either reminded Jinyoung of his impending doom with the upcoming spring dance design and organization, or forcibly shoved something he borrowed against his chest. Jinyoung would push him back as he tried to calmly walk away, or hit him with said items. 

 

There were incidents where Yugyeom didn’t try to confess at all, and didn’t overthink his pounding heart. They shared music and debated about the subplots of the latest television drama, and slept next to each other almost every time after an intense study group at Jackson’s house. Sometimes he’d notice Jinyoung glancing at him, and see the beginnings of his eye whisker smile. And not that physical contact was a new thing with Jinyoung, but between them, it hadn’t ever really been something friendly or caring. So when Jinyoung was insistent on locking their arms together and holding hands, laying his head on Yugyeom’s shoulder to rest a minute while Jackson grabbed more drinks and snacks, his first reaction was to push the older away and run into the cold, night ocean. 

 

That time, it was like Jinyoung could sense how tense he was, and loosened his grip in case Yugyeom did want to run. 

 

He didn’t, but the next day at school, he was ten times the brat he normally was when he came across Jinyoung. And Jinyoung left him alone. For nearly a week. 

 

Yugyeom debated asking him what the sudden affection meant. He was desperate to know if he was the only one kicking his blankets at night and burying his head in his pillows. 

 

The first day of silence, he was okay. The second day, he thought about Jinyoung’s almond eyes and banged his forehead against the desk in history class. The third day his hand started to twitch and feel empty without something of Jinyoung’s to return, or having his own hand to hold. The fourth day he nearly caved into an apology, waiting outside the hall of Jinyoung’s classroom, but another student said he had left early for an appointment. The fifth and sixth day he kept pulling his fingers away from his mouth, eventually applying some kind of gross tasting nail care and clear polish, otherwise he wouldn’t have any nails left if he kept on.  

 

The seventh day, he paced outside Jinyoung’s locker instead of eating lunch in the cafeteria. He had a note, telling Jinyoung he had something to say on the roof tomorrow, and he almost tore it apart, but he had three minutes left of the lunch break. He spent one more minute pacing, another minute with his head against Jinyoung’s locker, and another minute slipping the folded paper half into the slot in the door, and pulling it out until the bell rang. It scared him and his hand let go of the note, and it easily slipped the rest of the way inside the locker. He had no choice now but to carry through. 

 

So the roof is where he found himself during their study hour. He got bored walking around and waiting, and didn’t really have a huge fear of heights, so he decided to glance over the edge. It was a long drop straight into the treeline of the tennis court. 

 

He hopped onto the ledge, pacing the border and stretching his arms to keep his balance. He was about to start whistling, but when he turned around to step off the ledge, the heavy metal door creaked open. Jinyoung didn’t come close, and he only took one headphone out, but it’s not like Yugyeom had deserved more. 

 

At least he came at all, and Yugyeom could finally talk out the longing pain in his chest. “Oh? I didn’t think you’d show up.” 

 

Jinyoung narrowed his gaze, near disinterested with a cup of anger. 

 

Yugyeom was suddenly more nervous than he had ever been. And he regretted trying again at all on such bad terms. “Well,” he started, tipping forward onto his toes. “I’ve just been curious. About what this is? I’ve just been thinking…,” he walked to the corner of the ledge. “Maybe I just really like you, and want you to date me.” 

 

Jinyoung didn’t speak. He just slowly blinked, waiting for more, or waiting for Yugyeom to make a fool out of himself. Or maybe his silence was the rejection. Maybe he was already a fool, not for having played this game of avoidance, but for assuming the crush might be mutual. Jinyoung was a class president! He was strategic and mostly organized. And Yugyeom was a class scapegoat at best. 

 

He hadn’t really attached the words emotionally manipulative to Jinyoung before, but now he was, and maybe to get through, he had to play with him in return. 

 

“You’re not gonna say anything?” He looked down to the tennis court, and back at Jinyoung. “I can just fall instead. If you don’t like me, I’ll really fall off.” Yugyeom stood on one foot and stuck his leg far over the edge, the air already pulling him over. He set it back on the cement and leaned out, staring at Jinyoung. “Don’t think I won’t.” 

 

Jinyoung’s lips moved but he didn’t hear what he said. He put his headphone in, and turned away towards the door. He disappeared inside, and Yugyeom was left with rejection and regret. He kicked the cement and pouted, sighing at his own behavior. He would have rathered the casual, frustrating stuttering and blushing over this. 

 

He considered going inside, but the door swung open again. And it wasn’t Jinyoung. 

 

Yugyeom didn’t remember how much sleep he had actually gotten in the past week, but he swore he was looking at a weird, alternate reflection of himself. His Other’s hair was styled differently, a slight part in the bangs, and he wore an oversized blue sweater and black jeans. And the present, real Yugyeom had messy bed hair and threw on a plain tee and plaid shirt because it was the cleanest thing he could find this morning. 

 

His Other seemed to judge him, like he knew exactly what happened on this roof a minute ago. Yugyeom’s head started aching, a subtle throb on his right temple. There was a high pitched white noise in his ear, and his vision blurred and glitched as if it were corrupted data, certain colors inverting on each other and pixels magically erasing themselves from the doorway and his Other. He fit his palm to his temple and closed his eyes as the noise increased in pitch and volume, and before he could stop it, he lost his footing with a dizzy spell, and fell backwards. 

 

He woke up on the floor of a hallway a little dazed, but his head wasn’t pounding nearly as much. He blinked quickly to fix his vision and make the brighter spots from the ceiling lights go away, until Jackson waved a hand in front of his face. “Hey man, you okay? You’re gonna be late.” 

 

He took Jackson’s hand so he could at least sit up. The pale blue walls didn’t seem as dull as he remembered, and when he stood to look out the unfamiliar pink clouds, he thought he saw a flying car. It seemed like the same school he had known, but in an entirely different territory. He wondered if this was his journey into death after falling off the roof. Or if he was already in a hospital recovering with too many drugs in his system. Nothing made sense to him, but Jackson was staring at him wide-eyed and waiting, so Yugyeom shook the nerves out of his system and followed his friend down the hall, and into a noisy classroom. 

 

Jaebum was sitting on top of a short bookshelf trying to read a book. Youngjae was curled in the seat of a desk playing an intense game on his handheld device, and Bambam was running jogging around the room flying his small drone, and doubled around to swing his arm around Yugyeom. “Don’t be so nervous, Gyeom. Tonight’s gonna be  _ fine _ .” 

 

Fine for what? He almost asked, but Mark went passed him on a skateboard, playfully poking his shoulder so he stumbled and Bam nearly dominoed the desks, and Mark stopped by Jaebum, hopping onto the space beside him and laughed openly at his own antics. 

 

Jackson ran out of the room and quickly returned with a slightly pouty Jinyoung, lips and cheeks puffed out like a squishy fish. But when he took notice of Yugyeom watching him, the pout disappeared, leaving only Jinyoung’s softer gaze and relaxed, squishy cheeks. He nodded at Yugyeom and glanced around at everyone else. 

 

“Who’s hungry?” He said loudly, and the resounding yells that followed was a bit jarring. 

 

They grabbed their things and Jaebum and Mark led them out. Yugyeom hadn’t any time to process what the actual hell was happening, and Jinyoung slowed his steps, walking backwards and smiling at Yugyeom before holding onto his wrist. “We’ll miss market specials.” 

Yugyeom already felt his face heating, stuttering out a small, “Okay, hyung.” He didn’t miss a beat after that, moving in the direction Jinyoung did. Their rowdy group continued off campus and down a steep road, ending up at a street market, with food stands and trucks, fresh farm-picked and local fruits and vegetables, offbeat accessories and artists. Yugyeom somehow ended up with a strawberry drink, and honey sticks courtesy of Jackson. Bambam pulled him further along to show him something meme worthy they’d reference as an inside joke for the next decade. 

 

And then Jinyoung snuck up behind him, poking between his shoulder blades and yelling a short, “Boo,” near his neck. Yugyeom surprisingly didn’t jump, but his muscles twitched and wished Jinyoung wouldn’t stand so close without knowing what was really going on here. 

 

He seemed a little disappointed that Yugyeom hadn’t screamed or jumped, but he confidently stood in front of him anyway, hooking a silver chain around Yugyeom’s wrist. “It was cheap, and I figured you hadn’t seen it. But it’s your style.”  Instead of explaining more or walking away like a normal person, Jinyoung used Yugyeom’s wrist to bring the drink close to his mouth, and he took a sip of his strawberry drinking, keeping stable eye contact the entire time. 

 

Yugyeom wanted these drugs out of his system, or to wake up already, or have a death surrounded with foggy plantations and a mysterious shadowy figure. 

 

“Oh? It’s not as sweet as I expected.” He then stole a honey stick from Yugyeom’s other hand, smirked, and turned to find Jackson. 

 

Yugyeom was a bit lightheaded, and spaced out the rest of their adventure. They ended up at Jackson’s, Youngjae challenging everyone to any game possible--cards, the frying pan game, smash brothers, random rock-paper-scissors matches. 

 

For most of it, Jinyoung sat beside him. When he was called for the frying pan game, he said his name off the beat, and three times instead of four. He laughed at his own mistake but tried to defend it by blaming it on the speed change, leaning into Yugyeom as he laughed harder at his impending punishment. And when Yugyeom messed up, Jinyoung silenced everyone fighting over who would flick Yugyeom’s forehead, making it clear he was the only one who could hurt Yugyeom. 

 

It did hurt. He nearly cried, and Jinyoung’s plotting, evil smirk made it that much worse, even when he mockingly cooed at him as if he were a wounded toddler. He kissed his thumb and pressed it to the ugly red spot, and Yugyeom finally understood that he was already dead, and this was his personal Hell. For the rest of eternity, he’d get to deal with the flirting he would have had if he were a better person to Jinyoung during his life. 

 

They already exhausted from the day by the time evening set, and Yugyeom fell asleep after dinner. He stirred awake when something shifted beside him, and he realized he was half on top of Jinyoung, using the crook of his shoulder as a pillow. It was too comfortable to move any more, and he wasn’t ready to wake up again, so he chased sleep once more, aware of the warm hand petting his hair. 

  
  


He sat on the classroom bookshelf, bored and still confused. Did souls sleep when they died, too? Was this still reality? How did he ever get Jinyoung to give him the caring affection, instead of weird and complex cat-and-mouse affection? During his crisis, Jinyoung entered the classroom to hand something to Jackson, and glanced intently at Yugyeom before leaving. 

 

It forced him to wonder exactly what would have happened if he had apologized and confessed properly on the roof before falling to his death. If he could do it all over, he would fight around his nerves, no matter how much gibberish he had to work through to get the words out. And since this life he had now was imaginary somehow, he was ready to try. Having Jinyoung while he was in a coma or already dead was better than existing in this pocket of hell, letting his chest tear in half with every positive gesture Jinyoung threw his way. 

 

He unfolded his legs and clumsily slid off the bookcase and running after Jinyoung. He followed the echo of his footsteps through the hall and up the stairs until he hit the metal door to the roof. He still didn’t understand, but he realized he combed his hair this morning, and wore a soft blue sweatshirt Jaebum handed down to him, and when he continued through the door, he saw the other version of himself on rewind. 

 

Time rewound until he was no longer falling, but his feet were steady on the ledge. The unkempt Yugyeom stared, just as dazed and confused as he remembered being. He tried to say something, but current Yugyeom couldn’t hear it. He tried to walk closer, but there was an invisible wall between them. So he set his gaze, and sternly shook his head. He hoped his other could decipher the meaning. The invisible wall caved towards him and forced him backwards, until the world glitched and darkened. 

 

And he was back to himself, spacing out on the roof ledge. From now on, he was going to make it a point to sleep early and probably never drink from Bambam’s  _ water  _ bottle ever again. Just in case. 

 

Jinyoung appeared again, in the same way, slightly angered and taking one headphone out. Yugyeom glanced at the tennis court below, and at Jinyoung’s unimpressed posture. And then he stepped off the ledge and walked to Jinyoung. 

 

He took his other headphone out and laid them around his neck. “Thought you were going to threaten to jump. But I’ll hear you out now.” 

 

Yugyeom cringed because he had already done that, so thank whatever time god helped him out that Jinyoung didn’t remember that. “I just…” He wrung his hands endlessly and leaned his weight between the heels of his feet and the tips of his toes. “I’m usually an ass to you anyway, but it’s a friendly way, you know? And that day,” he closed his eyes and vaguely gestured to the air, knowing Jinyoung would recall the exact minute Yugyeom had ruined everything. “It wasn’t friendly and I was a major asshole. An idiot, hyung. I shouldn’t have treated you like that, but my chest hurt and I got angry thinking about what happened. I never know what you’re aiming for, and it’s unfair that I turned my frustration into anger against you.” 

 

By now, Jinyoung was consoling him with one hand gently on his elbow, and the other holding Yugyeom’s opposite wrist. “Breathe, it’s okay to take your time.” 

 

His chest was really aching and he was worried tears might color his vision if Jinyoung did anything more. “Just sometimes I think I like you, and it seems mutual. And then other times we avoid each other or get a little too violent.” Yugyeom watched Jinyoung’s fingers drop to fold around his own. “I shouldn’t get angry at you if I like you, right? That’s why it’s complicated. But...I really think…” Yugyeom let his fingers fall against Jinyoung’s soft, warm hand. “I dunno, it might be nice to try.” He shrugged. 

 

Jinyoung was silent, and he was terrified of another rejection. Jinyoung released his elbow. Yugyeom’s heart nearly stopped, waiting for him to laugh or walk away. But he pulled something from his jacket pocket. “We all went to the market, and Jackson said it was best to let you sort things out. He even stole Bambam’s phone so he didn’t text you. But, I found this and it was cheap so I bought it.” 

 

It was the silver chain, and Jinyoung looped it around his wrist. It was the same one the other Jinyoung had bought for him. 

 

“It’s your style, right?” 

 

Yugyeom nodded. 

 

“Good.” 

 

And then Jinyoung pushed Yugyeom’s shoulder. “Now relax. I was busy the whole week, anyway and tried to find you for lunch, but you never came near the cafeteria. I wouldn’t bite your head off.” 

 

Yugyeom sighed and his muscles loosened. 

 

“But I would hit it. Just a little,” Jinyoung playfully raised his hand and Yugyeom couldn’t help but shrink back. “You’d deserve it. Disrespecting your elders.” 

 

“I’m really sorry hyung.” He hung his head, pouting and holding on to Jinyoung’s wrist now. 

 

“Don’t act cute.” Jinyoung freed himself from Yugyeom. “Now back to class. Jackson says it’s movie night, and I’d rather not have my perfect record scarred by after school detention because of a brat.” 

 

Yugyeom supposed he had bad timing, or should have apologized first and then waited. He’d never get an answer, so he started towards the door in heavy shame and a weird mix of guilt and regret. 

 

“But before that,” Jinyoung continued. Without missing a beat, he snaked an arm around Yugyeom’s shoulder and grabbed his neck, pulling him to his height. 

 

He slowly blinked, and this close to his eyes, Yugyeom thought for sure he was going to have a heart attack and die all over again. Jinyoung noticed his blushing and grinned a little, making a little humming sound before kissing him. 

 

Yugyeom squeaked. 

 

Jinyoung obviously took that as a sign he might try to run or do something stupid again, and hooked his other arm around Yugyeom’s waist, holding him in place, and Yugyeom finally melted into him. 

 

He was falling apart inside, heart running wild and his face on fire, but it was good because he knew Jinyoung would put him back together with his tough love, hard to get act. 

 

Jinyoung smirked, obviously overly satisfied with the destruction he was causing in Yugyeom’s chest. “Class,” he gasped, regaining his breathing.Yugyeom smiled back knowing he wasn’t the only one tearing at the seams. “Go,” his arm swung towards the doorway. Yugyeom giggled and happily followed Jinyoung back to class. 

 

Later, at Jackson’s, everyone noticed a difference. For one, Yugyeom was there. And for two, Jinyoung was curled up on him and not trying to suffocate him to death. He was actually starting to slur his words and blinked slower. Yugyeom was glad to be a comfortable pillow, even if he felt his muscles tense anytime Jinyoung entwined their fingers or let his palm rest flat on his chest. 

 

Yugyeom dared not to move, and Bambam was nice enough to keep his water and popcorn supply within reach. Jinyoung didn’t last through the first five minutes of the  _ first  _ movie, and Yugyeom drifted off partway into the second movie, one hand still in the popcorn bucket, and his other locked to Jinyoung’s, his finger hooked on the bracelet around Yugyeom’s wrist. 

**Author's Note:**

> special bonus cb week q: hands up if you've been unironically dabbing during got7 songs 
> 
> anyway if you read this thank you! i'm at the usual spots to yell at if you'd like --> [the twt](https://twitter.com/pinkichor) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/pinkichor)


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